


Suprises

by little_spooks



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 23:38:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5804776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_spooks/pseuds/little_spooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve returns from a mission to find that Bucky has adopted a puppy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suprises

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fanfic, so don't be too harsh. i'm just excited i was finally brave enough to write and post this.

The sunlight streaming through Steve’s bedroom in Stark Tower feels like it’s stabbing him in his eyes. More than usual. He didn’t get back until nearly three in the morning, and after a week of sleepless nights at SHIELD’s new training base he was hoping for more of a luxurious lie in today. 

He tries to bury his face in the pillow, but the light is relentless. He can rarely get back into a deep sleep once he’s woken, anyway. With a resigned sigh, he pushed the covers off himself and glances over at Bucky.

Rumpled blankets and empty sheets. It’s surprising for Bucky to be up this early; he’s normally a big supporter of all things indulgent, morning lie ins included.

He better be making coffee, Steve thinks as he walks to the kitchen. On second thought, maybe not. Bucky hasn’t yet mastered the fine art of the French press---regrettably, he still thinks Folger’s counts as quality coffee. The French press was a Christmas gift from Natasha, one of her more useful presents (she gets immense enjoyment from gifting the most impractical things). Steve lacks in most areas of self care, but Bucky swears he practically has an emotional attachment to the French press.

There is an unusual lack of noise. Bucky has generally knocked over three things and sworn loudly at one before he’s woken up properly.  
At first the kitchen appears empty, until Steve traces the source of a muted cooing noise to the corner.

He stops. 

And stares.

Bucky is huddled in the corner, with pajama bottoms and sleep mussed hair, sweet talking to a mop of black fur and bright eyes snuggled on his lap. 

A puppy.

A puppy?

“Buck,” Steve starts. “Buck, what are you doing?”

Bucky looks up as if it’s perfectly normal to find him cuddling a puppy on the kitchen floor at five thirty in the morning when there has, until very recently, been no puppy inhabiting their apartment.

“I thought we needed a dog.” He looks satisfied that this is a reasonable explanation.

“You’ve never mentioned a dog before. Also, I did not know we were getting a dog.” This wasn’t entirely true; Bucky had to compulsively pet every dog he saw around the city. Steve wasn’t really sure what the source of his childish delight at petting them was, but he wouldn’t object to anything that could make Bucky break his stony façade and smile.

Okay, he kind of objected to suddenly being informed he had a dog, after a very trying week and very little sleep and a very strong desire to spend the morning in bed.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Bucky apologized, as if he could read Steve’s thoughts. “She has to go out early.”

“She?”

“She. She doesn’t have a name yet. I was waiting til you got back….figured you might want to help pick it out.”

“How very considerate,” Steve said sarcastically. His irritation dissipates as he watches Bucky bury his face in the puppy’s fur, stroking her soft belly ever so gently with his metal fingers. 

Steve squats down and reaches out a hand. A cold nose and wet, warm tongue.  
And sharp teeth.

“Still got her baby teeth.”

“So I see.”

Bucky shifts, making room for Steve in the corner. He pushes some chew toys and a rubber kong out of the way.

“It was awful quiet here, Stevie. I don’t like that much quiet.”

As if on cue, the puppy lets out a few sharp yips.

Steve smiles and reaches for her.

“Aw, I’m not mad, Bucky. Just didn’t know you were planning this.”

“I wasn’t,” Bucky admitted. “Just…just came to me. JARVIS helped me find a shelter.”

Steve laughs. JARVIS, state of the art AI technology, enlisted to help adopt a puppy. 

“Well,” he says, running his fingers over her soft ears. “I suppose we need a name.”


End file.
